She does not mind a good cigar br (The kind, that is, I smoke); br She thinks all men quite stupid are, br (But laughs whene’er I joke). br br She says she does not care for verse br (But praises all I write); br She says that punning is a curse, br (But then mine are so bright!) br br She does not like a big moustache br (You see that mine is small); br She hates a man with too much 'dash,' br (I scarcely dash at all!) br br She simply dotes on hazel eyes br (And mine, you note, are that); br She likes a man of portly size; br (Gad! I am getting fat!) br br She says champagne is made to drink; br (In this we quite agree!) br And all these symptoms make me think br Sweet Kate’s in love with me.